@verdinium :
<b>"Miss Highwind."
He sits down heavily beside her, joining her at the campfire. Hands in shackles, and other mercaneries dragging him to her, but he treats it like a minor setback in the grand scheme of things. "You wanted to talk to me?"
Cor Leonis' eyes are even brighter than they were in the pictures she's seen, ever watchful at the side of a dead king, and here, in his dirty face in a dirty camp in the middle of nowhere, they shine like silver coins. Her men roughed him up quite a bit, a glimpse of bruises and cuts here and there, but his mien is as stoic as that of a dead man.
"Your invitation came as a bit of a surprise, gotta say."</b>
Aranea rose a brow as she took in his appearance within the firelight. She waited until the mercenaries - too low ranking to wear a face Cor might recognize - had saluted to her and left. Only then did she turn her full attention on the enemy Marshal.
“Cor the Immortal. So you’ve managed to make time for me.” Two could play this game of fake pleasantries and it was rather amusing to her. At least when it was Cor who spoke them. There was something about the Lucian in front of her. Something upfront and honest. Something she could respect. So much unlike the theatrics of a certain chancellor. “Allow me to ask, was it Biggs or Wedge who split your lip?”
She knew her men, each and every one by name. She also knew what they were capable of, and the only two she considered seasoned enough fighters to land a proper hit on Cor Leonis were her left and right hand men. “I dare say the rugged appearance kind of suits you. Makes you seem feral.”
